


The Hogwarts Official Technology Appreciation Support Society

by flawedamythyst



Series: Winglets AUs [9]
Category: Cabin Pressure, Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-18 18:36:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8171771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flawedamythyst/pseuds/flawedamythyst
Summary: There was a room on the seventh floor of Hogwarts that contained a full-size flight simulator.Harry Potter AU





	

There was a room on the seventh floor that contained a full-size flight simulator. Martin hadn't worked out why Hogwarts had a Muggle aviation training tool, but he wasn't about to complain about it. Not when it was the only place where he could go and not feel like a failure.

The problem was that he just wasn't very good at magic. Well, that was one of the problems, the others were that he wasn't actually that interested in being good at magic so he didn't work at it, and he wasn't very good at making friends, so he didn't even have people he could ask for help.

He did have access to a flight simulator though, which was just about the best thing ever. He'd wanted to be a pilot ever since he worked out that planes were so much better than brooms, which had been years before he'd even started at Hogwarts.

One night, he headed up to the seventh floor after dinner and walked up and down the corridor three times to make the door appear, then threw it open and stopped dead. He wasn't in the familiar surroundings of the mock aircraft cockpit, and he wasn't alone.

Tony Stark glanced up from the workbench he was bent over. "Ah," he said. "This isn't what it looks like."

Martin stared at him. He'd never actually spoken to Tony Stark but he knew exactly who he was. Everyone at Hogwarts did. He was best friends with Steve Rogers, part of the golden group of friends in the last year of Gryffindor who always seemed to be at the top of everything. Martin had had a crush on him since he was old enough to have crushes.

"It looks like some kind of futuristic mechanics shop," he managed to say.

Tony glanced around. "Okay, so, it's kinda exactly what it looks like."

"I don't understand,” said Martin, shaking his head. “Where's my aeroplane?"

It wasn't a real plane, of course, Martin knew that. It was just that it felt a lot like it sometimes, like that time it had given him a bird strike at St. Petersburg when he'd landed on only one engine and felt like a hero.

Tony looked interested. "It's a plane for you? That's very cool. What kind?"

"It's a simulator," said Martin. "I'm learning to fly. I mean, learning to fly a plane, obviously I learnt how to fly a broom in my first year. Earlier, really, Mum used to let me fly on hers sometimes when I was a kid, although that doesn't really count, I suppose, I didn't go much higher than a metre and she was watching the whole time with her wand out to catch me if anything happened."

Oh god, he was rambling. He couldn't seem to stop talking when Tony was looking at him like that, as if Martin was someone genuinely interesting and worth paying attention to.

"Planes are better," agreed Tony, as if he hadn't noticed Martin's word vomit. "Don't tell anyone I said that, of course, they're all so caught up with magic here, but Muggle engineering techniques are so much better. Here, come and have a look at this, I'm actually designing a plane right now."

Martin blinked and strode over, forgetting all his nerves. "Designing a plane? Really?"

"Yeah," said Tony, moving so that Martin could see a blueprint on the desk in front of him, somehow projected in light. "This room is pretty much identical to the workshop I've got back home, so I can do all my usual tinkering here."

"Oh," said Martin, looking over the design. "Oh, it's lovely."

Tony beamed at him. "Thanks! Here, let me show you the details."

He did something with his hands that made the blueprint zoom out and Martin did his best not to let out an audible gasp of delight. "What spell is that?"

"It's not, it's tech," said Tony. "You know about this room, right? That it provides whatever you're thinking about needing as you walk past it three times?"

Martin hadn't realised that, but he supposed that made sense. The first time he'd found this room he'd been hiding from a gang of Slytherins who thought it was funny to hex his hair into clumps of carrots. He'd been daydreaming about becoming a pilot and wondering how he was going to get into flight school when he didn't have any Muggle schooling. A flight simulator was exactly what he'd needed to give him somewhere to hide away and build up some useful skills.

"Uh, right. Yes, of course," he said. "And you required Muggle technology?"

"Pretty much," agreed Tony. "You know my parents are Muggles, right?" Martin hadn't, but he nodded as if that were old news. "My dad runs a tech company, a pretty big one, and I've been helping out with some of the designs since I was a kid. This room turns into a mirror of my workshop back home, with all the Muggle computer equipment I need to do stuff, and then somehow it saves my designs to my hard drive back there. I've no idea how it works, magic and computers shouldn't be able to synch up like that."

“Hogwarts can be pretty incredible,” said Martin, examining the blueprints. “Oh, those winglets are beautiful.”

Tony gave him a wide grin. “Okay, yes, you can stay. Martin, right? Anyone who says nice things about my winglets is always welcome.”

So Martin did stay, for what turned out to be way longer than he'd been intending to. He and Tony had to creep back to their common rooms after curfew, which made Martin's heart beat in his chest with fear.

“Chill out,” Tony whispered to him, just before they parted at the stairs. “Most of the prefects are my friends, just tell them you were with me and they won't take any points off you.”

Martin managed a jerky nod. “It's actually Filch I'm more scared of,” he admitted.

Tony let out a breathy laugh. “Yeah, okay, I can't help with that one.” He stepped away towards Gryffindor Tower, then hesitated. “Hey, uh, it was good to have someone to talk to about this stuff. Most people here don't care about Muggle tech at all.”

“Most people here are missing out,” Martin told him, and won himself another laugh.

“Yeah,” agreed Tony. “Okay, so, if you ever wanted to do it again-”

“Yes please,” said Martin immediately, and then winced. Too eager, way too eager, he should have waited for Tony to at least finish his sentence.

“Awesome,” said Tony. “Okay, then it's settled.” He held his hand out to Martin. “We just formed the Hogwarts Official Technology Appreciation Support Society.”

Martin shook Tony's hand, trying not to let on that just touching his skin was sending tingles shooting down his spine. “Great! That's...great.”

Tony gave him one last grin and then turned away, and Martin realised he was now all alone with no protection from Filch, or Peeves, and scurried back away to the Hufflepuff common room.

****

Martin and Tony start meeting once a week, and then somehow it crept up to twice a week, and then it seemed to be every other night, until Martin was getting into trouble with his professors for not having done his homework. He'd spent every evening for a fortnight shut up in Tony's workshop, listening to him describing his inventions and hoping he wasn't staring at him with adoration as obviously as it felt like he was.

Tony hadn't seemed to mind though. He'd seemed over-joyed to see Martin every time, and doubly so on the evening when they found the room had installed Martin's flight simulator in the corner of his workshop.

“This is awesome!” he'd said, looking it over. “It's all Muggle tech, so I should be able to reprogram it, and then you can test-fly a simulation of the Starkjet prototype!”

“Oh, wow,” said Martin, glancing over to the blueprint that was hanging in mid-air. “That would be the absolute very best.”

Tony reached out and ruffled his hair, grinning. “Of course it would be. My tech is the best.”

That was the other thing about Tony. He seemed to be constantly touching him. Martin couldn't work out if it was just a thing he did or if it meant something specific about how he felt about Martin.

Martin really, really wanted it to be just about him. Getting to know Tony had made it clear that Martin didn't just have a crush on him from afar, he really liked him. A lot.

Enough to ignore his Charms homework in favour of staying in the workshop and hearing about the AI Tony wanted to build into the autopilot, just as soon as he could get the coding to work.

“Mr. Crieff,” said Professor Knapp-Shappey in the dangerously quiet tone that meant he was about to be eviscerated. Martin hunched his shoulders over. “Do you believe that you are so good at Charms that you don't need further practice?”

“No,” he muttered, miserably, very aware of the audience of mixed Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students, all staring at him and probably really relieved it wasn't them being yelled at.

“No,” repeated Professor Knapp-Shappey. “Well then, do you believe Charms to be a useless or frivolous subject, like Divination?”

“No,” he said again, because everyone knew what Professor Knapp-Shappey thought about Divination.

“No. Why, then, do you persist in failing to do doing the work that, if you put in all your effort, might just manage to make you _passable_ at basic Charms? Do you think I just set homework for the sheer joy and excitement of having to mark it all?”

“No, Professor,” said Martin, weakly.

“Well, you are right,” she said. “I set it because sometimes it's the only way to din things into a student's skull and you, Crieff, need far more dinning than most. You will do detention with me every evening until you have caught up on your homework, and then you will write an essay on the importance of homework as part of the educational process. Do I make myself clear?”

Oh god, that meant Martin wouldn't be able to meet Tony tonight. Or tomorrow night. Or, if Martin was being brutally honest with himself, for several nights. He nodded and slipped back to his seat, shoulders hunched over.

****

Tony wasn't at dinner that night so Martin couldn't slip over to the Gryffindor table and tell him that he was going to be caught up for the next few nights. In fact, none of his group of friends were there so Martin couldn't even give one of them a message to pass on, even if he could have plucked up the courage for it.

He spent the evening labouring over his homework while Professor Knapp-Shappey glared at him, trying not to think of Tony waiting alone in the workshop, wondering where he was.

Or, worse, being secretly relieved to get an evening to himself without Martin cluttering the place up.

Tony was at breakfast the next morning, but he was surrounded by his friends and sitting next to Steve Rogers, who was not only Head Boy and Quidditch Captain but also incredibly popular and astonishingly attractive. It took Martin most of a slice of toast to pluck up the courage to go over and then the whole gang of them got up and left before he could do more than stand up.

Martin tried to meet Tony's eye as he walked out but he was too busy saying something to Bruce Banner that seemed to involve wide arm gestures.

Right, okay. Well, there was always lunch, right?

Except he didn't manage to find the courage at lunch either and then after lessons, Arthur did something to the Hufflepuff Common Room entrance that meant no one could leave for two hours without turning into an otter, so the whole house were late for dinner and only sat down after everyone else had gone.

Martin shovelled down quiche, meaning to go and find Tony before he had to be at Professor Knapp-Shappey's office even if it meant having to go to the Gryffindor common room itself; a terrifying prospect.

Instead, she came and found him. “Arthur's stupidity is no excuse for tardiness,” she snapped. “You're late for your detention.”

“We've only just sat down,” protested Martin.

“Then you may bring the quiche with you,” she said, “but you still owe me both homework and an essay.”

Martin sighed, picked up the quiche in one hand and his bag in the other, and trudged after her.

The next morning, he decided to be pro-active. He entered the Great Hall, set his sights on the Gryffindor table and marched over, trying to ignore the prickling sensation on his skin. No one was going to be watching him or caring about who he talked to, even if it felt like they do.

Oh god though, what if Tony didn't want to be seen talking to Martin in public?

No, no, it would be fine. Just fine. He'd say his piece, then escape back to the Hufflepuff table and no one would even notice him.

Tony glanced up as Martin was coming over, caught sight of him, and froze.

Oh god, this was a horrible mistake, what had Martin been thinking? He stopped dead in his tracks.

All of Tony's friends noticed the look on his face and then turned to see what he was staring at, and suddenly Martin was the centre of attention for not just Steve Rogers, but also Bruce Banner, Thor Odinson, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov, the Maximoff Twins and basically every single student who was looked up to and admired by the other years. And Bucky Barnes, who wasn't really admired, but was terrifying in his own special way.

Martin felt like he was going to throw up.

There was a heart-stopping moment during which Martin knew he should be making his feet move forward so that he could get out the words, then Professor Fury swept up.

"You lot, with me," he snapped, gesturing at the Gryffindors. They all stood and followed him out, Tony sending a glance back over his shoulder at Martin.

Martin let out a deep breath and turned back to the Hufflepuff table. Right, okay, so much for that. He sat down next to Arthur and reached for the toast.

"Are you okay, Martin?" asked Arthur. "You look all- you know. Droopy."

Arthur was probably the closest thing to a friend that Martin had, largely by default as they were in the same year and house and didn't have any other friends.

"I'm fine," said Martin.

"Right," said Arthur, not sounding as if he believed it for a moment, but he mercifully didn't say anything else.

They had Potions first. Martin wasn't very good at Potions but Arthur was terrible, so he spent most of the lesson trying to stop Arthur getting anywhere near their cauldron so that it wouldn't explode, or turn them all into toads, or melt down through the table and the floor, and on down to create a seemingly bottomless hole into the Earth's crust, all of which had been known to happen.

Afterwards was Transfigurations, but they didn't make it there. They were heading along a third floor corridor when there came a stampede of feet and a handful of panicked-looking students came around the corner in front of them.

"Go back!" one of them shouted. "Monsters!"

Martin felt the bottom of his stomach fall out and he turned around and fled, barely heeding Arthur's footsteps behind him. As they reached the corner, he glanced back to see a giant black figure come around the corner, grinning maliciously at the students with red eyes as ice formed on the floor in front of him.

Oh god.

Oh god, oh god, oh god.

Martin put on a burst of speed and lost his head a little bit, not really coming back to himself until he found himself heading down a long flight of stairs with Arthur pounding behind him and a Slytherin student in front of them. There was a roar from behind them and ice spread down the handrail, and they all jumped down the last few stairs and turned down the corridor, pelting past the tapestry of Sir Birling The Boor, who yelled insults at them in his usual manner.

The Slytherin glanced back and Martin recognised him as Douglas Richardson from the year above. "This way!" he called, and turned right.

Martin followed his lead, glad that someone seemed to have a plan other than 'run about in a panic hoping a teacher or someone turns up and saves the day'.

The corridor ended in a steep spiral staircase up to the Transfigurations classroom which wasn't ideal. They all skidded to a halt and Martin glanced back to see the giant turning the corner grinning maliciously.

"Oh god! What's the plan?"

"The plan is for you two to distract it while I escape," said Douglas, which wasn't at all what Martin wanted to hear.

Douglas darted behind a coat of armour as ice formed over the floor, sticking Martin and Arthur's feet to the floor. There was a grinding noise from behind a coat of armour and Martin saw a secret passage open up and then close as Douglas darted through and disappeared.

"Oh dear," said Arthur. "What are we going to do, Martin?"

Martin had no idea. He glanced up a the spiral staircase, but there was no way they were going to be able to get up there before the giant made it down the corridor, especially as ice was already forming over it.

He heard himself make a whimpering noise.

Arthur pulled out his wand and held it up and Martin copied him, but he had no idea what spell he should be going for. Well, fire was the opposite of ice, right?

"Incendio!" he shouted, but his heart wasn't really in it, and the resulting fire was little more than a handful of sparks.

The giant just laughed. "Such tricks will not harm me!" he crowed.

He was close enough now to lean down and breath freezing ice crystals at them. Martin felt himself quake with fear.

Just as he was mentally giving up all hope and trying to decide if his biggest regret was not mentioning to Tony how he felt or never getting to fly a plane, there was a furious shout from the other end of the corridor.

"GET OFF MY SON NOW!"

A plume of fire hit the giant in the back, making him stagger and roar with pain.

It was Professor Knapp-Shappey.

"Oh, Mum!" said Arthur. "That's brilliant!"

She sent him a glare as the giant turned towards her, ice shooting from his fingers. She threw up a shield, then shouted a spell that created spiral of fire, twisting around the giant and holding it in place.

"You two, get out of here!" she demanded. "Down to the courtyard!"

Martin didn't need to be told twice. He and Arthur ran past the giant while he was being restrained by the flames, then headed for the stairs down, leaving Professor Knapp-Shappey to show the giant exactly why the whole school was terrified of her.

"Gosh!" said Arthur. "This is exciting!"

"No, Arthur, it's terrifying," said Martin.

They ran down the stairs to the entrance hall, just in time for three ice giants to burst in from a side corridor, take one look at martin and Arthur and immediately start towards them, roaring with delight.

They were cutting off the way out to the courtyard, so Martin and Arthur ran the other way, pushing open the doors of the Great Hall and spilling inside, then slamming them shut behind them.

"Oh, hi, guys," said a voice, and Martin glanced back to see Tony and his friends were there, wands clutched in their hands.

"Hi," he said in a high-pitched voice, then cleared his throat. "I mean. Hi. Um."

“Good to see you,” said Tony, giving him a bright smile. God, how did he manage to still look so good-looking when there were evil giants trying to kill them?

There was a shudder as something heavy thumped on the door.

"Oh god!" said Martin.

"How many were there?" asked Steve. He had his wand in one hand and, for some reason, a tea tray in the other.

"Three," said Arthur.

Steve glanced around at the others, who gave him serious nods and then spaced out a bit.

"Okay, on the count of three, let go of the door and get back out of the way," said Steve.

Martin drew in a deep breath and nodded, trying very hard to keep himself together. He couldn't fall apart and start crying in front of Tony.

"One, two, three," said Steve, slowly.

Martin and Arthur let go of the door and sprinted across the hall to duck behind one of the tables.

The door shattered inward in an explosion of wood and ice and the three giants stormed in.

"Now!" called Steve.

Natasha and Sam both sent streams of fire shooting at the giant nearest them, circling around to cut him off from the others. A flaming arrow came from somewhere above and hit the chest of the middle one and promptly exploded, and Martin looked up to see Clint Barton perched on a rafter, clutching a bow. Where the hell had he got that?

Steve muttered a spell and set his wand to the back of his tea tray, holding it up like a shield as a shimmer of magic flowed over it. Bucky snapped out a spell that shot out looking like _Incendio_ until it reflected off the tray in a roar of white-hot flame, hitting the third giant right in the face and shattering it into shards of ice. It swayed, then fell over backwards with a crash.

The giant Sam and Natasha had cornered was fighting back, swinging a giant fist at Natasha that she had to somersault under to avoid.

“Stark!” she shouted.

“I'm working on it!” called back Tony.

He wasn't even holding his wand, Martin realised. Instead, it was tucked in his back pocket while he fiddled with some kind of metal glove that covered his hand.

Distracted, he didn't notice the giant that Clint had hit with an arrow let out a bellow and crashing to his knees, then reaching out towards Tony as if intending to crush his head in his hand.

“No!” shouted Steve, and the tea tray flew out of his hand, bouncing off the giant's fist and making him recoil.

Tony glanced over and took a couple of quick steps backwards. “Thanks, Cap!” he called.

“For god's sake, we're not on the bloody Quidditch pitch now!” shouted Sam. “Do your thing already, Tony!”

“Hold your horses,” said Tony. “I told you, I just needed a couple of minutes to reset it. All done now.” He held up his hand, palm flat in front of him as if he was stopping traffic, and grinned at the giant. “Say hello to my little friend,” he said.

A burst of light came out of the palm of his metal glove, hit the giant right in the chest, and sent it flying back into a wall where it shattered like a dropped icicle.

“Finally,” snapped Natasha, as if that hadn't been the coolest thing anyone had ever done. Martin couldn't stop himself from staring, open-mouthed, at Tony as he gave her a cocky grin and then glanced down at the glove.

“Oh crap, it's done it again,” he said, and pulled a screwdriver out of his pocket. “I swear to god, one day I'm going to work out how to get magic and technology to work together for longer than thirty seconds.”

Steve and Bucky had somehow managed to finish off the last giant while Martin had been distracted by just how awesome Tony was, so he pulled himself out from behind the table, wondering what he could say that would express his gratitude for the rescue without giving away just how turned on he was right now.

Luckily, Arthur was there to speak for him.

“That. Was. BRILLIANT!” he said. “You guys are incredible! Do you do this a lot?”

“What, fight ice giants?” asked Sam. “Not so much, no.”

“I don't know,” said Natasha. “We seem to be doing it a lot today.”

Clint slid down a rope from his rafter, landing with a light jump. “It's kinda getting old,” he agreed. “It would be good if we could maybe skip it and have lunch already.”

Bucky walked over him. “You realise it's not actually lunch time for another hour, right?” he asked, and then pulled Clint into his arms and kissed him, as easily as if he'd patted his shoulder.

Martin stared at them, and then dragged his eyes away, trying not to look as if there was anything weird to stare at.

Natasha had caught his reaction and was giving him a narrow-eyed look. “Is there a problem?” she asked, the threat barely hidden in her tone.

“Nope!” said Martin, quickly. “No, no, it's all fine. Just fine. Totally fine.”

“A problem with what?” asked Arthur, blithely. His gaze fell on Bucky and Clint, who had stopped kissing but still had their arms around each other. “Oh! Oh no, didn't be silly, Martin wouldn't have a problem. He's gay too.”

Martin winced as every eye in the room turned to him. Tony had still been staring down at his glove thing and poking it with a screwdriver, but his head whipped up at that and Martin could feel their casual and easy evenings slipping away from him.

“Arthur,” he said, through gritted teeth, “remember when we talked about the importance of keeping secrets?”

“Yes,” said Arthur, “but that was from people who weren't nice. Everyone here is nice, you don't have to worry.”

Martin took a deep breath. “Right,” he muttered.

“Okay,” said Tony, breaking the silence and tucking his screwdriver, “I'm pretty sure that means we now have enough students for an LGBT group, which means we're totally marching at a Pride parade next year.”

Steve let out a long-suffering sigh and turned away to retrieve his tea tray. “The Wizarding World doesn't have Pride parades, Tony.”

“And that is just one of the many things that's wrong with it,” said Tony. He took a couple of steps closer to Martin. “You doing okay?” he asked, quieter. “Didn't let any giants get too close?”

Martin shook his head. “I've mostly just been running away,” he admitted.

Tony nodded. “Very sensible,” he said. “Exactly what I'd be doing, if I wasn't exactly as idiotic as everyone always said I was.”

“Your glove thing is cool,” Martin offered, and Tony's face lit up.

“Isn't it?” he said, happily. “I'm thinking about maybe making a whole suit. Like one of the suits of armour that some seriously maladjusted medieval interior decorator thought were appropriate to scatter all over this school. And, of course, it's going to be able to fly.”

“Oh, wow,” said Martin. “I can't wait to see it.”

The smile Tony gave him for that was smaller but tinged with enough affection to make up for that. “You're not bored of my tech, then?” he asked, then hesitated before adding, “You haven't been by the last couple of nights. I mean, okay, I guess you have other stuff to do, people to hang with, and it can get kinda dull to a lay per-”

“No!” interrupted Martin. “It's not- of course I wanted to come, but I've had detention. I was trying to tell you.”

“Detention?” asked Tony. “Are you secretly some kind of roguish bad boy? Because if you are, you've been keeping that really damn qui-”

Before he could finish, there was a loud crash as something heavy flew through the broken doors. Martin let out a scream of surprise and jumped backwards in the direction of the table.

“You have DEFILED the HONOUR of our family!” announced a loud booming voice, and Thor came striding through the doors.

The thing he had thrown was his brother, Loki, who propped himself up on one arm. “They're not _my_ family,” he hissed.

“Family is not blood, brother,” said Thor. “It is those that care for you. Our parents-”

“They are not my parents!” said Loki louder, standing up. “And this is not the world I was meant to be brought up in!”

“You are being foolhardy and childish!” said Thor, swinging the hammer in his hand.

Where did he get a hammer? Martin glanced at Clint's bow and Steve's tea tray and wondered if everyone was meant to have a bizarre, one-of-a-kind weapon. It hadn't said anything on the school kit list.

Tony put his hand on Martin's arm. “Don't worry,” he said quietly, under Thor and Loki's continued shouting. “Thor's got this. Loki found out during the holidays that he was adopted, and hasn't been coping so well.”

“You will always be my brother, even as I smack your face into the wall!” shouted Thor.

“Oh,” said Martin in a wavering voice that he cleared his throat to hide. “Oh, okay.”

“And by not coping well, I mean, he opened a portal and brought a bunch of ice giants through to wreak revenge,” added Tony.

Martin blinked. “What? But...why? And why at school, if it's his parents he's annoyed with?”

“No idea. Because he's crazier than a box of cats?”

Martin watched Thor and Loki argue. Well, that did seem like a pretty accurate assessment.

“Of course,” added Tony, “so's Thor, so I guess that's a point on the side of nurture over nature, if not exactly a good sign for Mr and Mrs Odinson's parenting skills.”

He was still touching Martin's arm. Should Martin be doing something with that? Had Tony just forgotten it was there? If Martin tried to hold Tony''s hand, would the world as he knew it collapse around his ears?

It really felt like it would but then, Martin wasn't really a fan of the world as it was. He took a deep breath, decided he could just play it off as post-ice giant trauma if Tony reacted badly, and took hold of Tony's hand.

The smile Tony gave him was everything Martin could have hoped for. Right. Okay. Right. Yes. Apparently, Martin hadn't fucked that up. Excellent.

What did he do now?

“Alright, boys, that's enough!” said a voice, and Professor Fury marched into the room, followed by Professors Knapp-Shappey, McGonagall and Coulson. “Break it up.” 

“Arthur, are you okay?” asked Professor Knapp-Shappey.

“I'm fine, Mum,” said Arthur, still sounding far more cheerful than anyone should be after having been chased by ice giants.

“Loki, come with me,” said Professor Fury. “The rest of you, we've cancelled classes, go back to your dorms.”

Loki drew himself up. “I don't have to listen to your petty dictates!”

“Well, you certainly have to listen to mine,” said Professor Knapp-Shappey, “and as your head of house, I'm telling you right now, this was extremely disappointing. We need to have a long talk about paying attention to the _cunning_ part of being a Slytherin.”

“And the unnecessary violence,” added Professor McGonagall, in a disapproving voice.

“Yes, yes, and that,” said Professor Knapp-Shappey.

They all dispersed to their dorms, Tony giving Martin a last smile as they separated. “Let me know when you're done with detention.”

Martin just nodded, trying very hard not to open his mouth and say something that would ruin this.

****

They were kept in their dorms for most of the rest of the day while the teachers made sure that there were no ice giants lurking anywhere else on campus. Martin tried to use the time to catch up on his homework but somehow he found himself staring out of the window and daydreaming about going on a trans-global flight with Tony instead.

One day, he was going to be a pilot and then he'd fly Tony around everywhere he needed to go for his dad's company. And maybe Tony would hold his hand again sometimes, or maybe even kiss him, although Martin was well aware of his lot in life and wasn't about to start having impossible dreams.

He managed about a paragraph of Professor Knapp-Shappey's essay on the importance of homework but the third time he found himself doodling a Cirrus SR22 in the margins he gave up.

"Want to play Exploding Snap?" he asked Arthur, even though he knew he was going to end up regretting it.

"Yes! Brilliant!" said Arthur. "No one ever seems to want to play with me!"

There was very good reason for that. By the time Professor Sprout came to take them down to dinner, Martin was lightly singed and Arthur was missing both his eyebrows.

Tony and his friends weren't at the Gryffindor table again. Martin tried not to look disappointed by that but he didn't think he did a very good job. The only person paying attention to him was Arthur though, so it probably didn't matter.

He spent most of dinner trying to work out if it was worth going to Tony's workshop tonight, or if Tony would be off doing whatever it was he was doing right now all night. Martin wanted to see him again as soon as possible, if only to sound out if the hand-holding thing was some kind of we-just-got-attacked-by-ice-giants fluke.

He didn't get a chance to. The moment dinner was over, Professor Knapp-Shappey appeared at their table.

"Are you ready, Martin?"

"Lessons were cancelled," protested Martin.

"Yes," she agreed. "Lessons were cancelled, but detentions were not because, and I hope you're noting this down, detentions are not lessons."

At that moment, the doors opened and Tony and his friends came in, distracting Professor Knapp-Shappey's attention.

"What sort of a time is this to come down to dinner?" she asked.

"I'm sorry, Professor," said Steve. "We were trying to cheer Thor up."

"Ah," she said. "And did you succeed?"

"Not noticeably," said Tony, with a shrug. He wasn't looking at Professor Knapp-Shappey though, his gaze was firmly fixed on Martin. “Hey, Martin, can I have a quick word?” 

“You may not,” said Professor Knapp-Shappey. “Mr. Crieff and I have an urgent appointment with a detention.”

“Right,” said Tony, rocking on his heels. “Of course. Martin, how about we meet in the usual place when you've got through all your detentions, yeah?”

Martin nodded, trying to restrain his smile into normal ranges. “Tomorrow evening,” he said. “I'll be finished tonight.”

“Oh, will you?” said Professor Knapp-Shappey. “I am still waiting on an essay.”

Martin thought about how little he'd managed to write on the essay so far, and then about getting to meet up with Tony again. “I'll finish it tonight,” he said, with resolution.

“Awesome,” said Tony. “Tomorrow, then.” He gave Martin a wink and headed over towards the Gryffindor table after his friends.

“Lord save me from teenagers,” Martin heard Professor Knapp-Shappey mutter, but he ignored her in favour of silently freaking out about exactly what might happen tomorrow night.

****

The next day, lessons were back on. Martin was halfway between Defence Against The Dark Arts and Care of Magical Creatures when someone grabbed his elbow and pulled him into an empty classroom.

"Oh god, please don't hurt me!" he cried, before he realised who had grabbed him.

Clint rolled his eyes. "Chill, we're not going to hurt you."

"Well, I might," said Bucky, with a dark grin. "Depends on what you say."

Martin swallowed nervously. There was always something a bit threatening about Bucky, as if deep depths of darkness lurked under his surface.

Clint elbowed him. "Don't freak him out until we're sure he needs freaking out."

"Look at him," said Bucky. "He's already freaking out."

"No, I'm not," said Martin, trying to control his terror and failing.

Clint looked him over and let out a sigh. "Calm down, it's fine. Bucky's not going to hurt you. We just want to know what's going on with you and Tony."

"Nothing!" said Martin. "Nothing's going on, I swear! We just meet up and talk about aviation technology sometimes, that's it."

Bucky snorted. "Didn't look like that was it yesterday."

Martin opened his mouth and then shut it. What was he meant to say? Was anything going on with him and Tony? He hoped so, but he had no idea. Should he be even telling Clint and Bucky if there was? What answer were they looking for?

"Okay, now you're definitely freaking out," said Clint. "Peace, dude. It's just a tiny interrogation in the name of friendship.”

“Interrogation?” repeated Martin, stepping back and coming up against the wall.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Shit, Clint, how are you so bad at this?”

“Shut up, you're not exactly doing any better,” said Clint with a glare.

“Hey, we said I'd be the bad cop,” said Bucky. “I'm pretty much nailing that. It's the good cop part that's falling down.”

Clint let out a long sigh, then turned back to Martin with a smile. “Okay, let's start this again, shall we?”

Martin nodded a few too many times.

“Our friend, Tony, is important to us,” said Clint. Bucky snorted, and Clint turned a glare on him that made Bucky hold both his hands up in surrender. “Very important to us,” repeated Clint, through what sounded like gritted teeth. “We just want to make sure you're not going to end up hurting him.”

Martin stared at them. “Hurt him?” he said. “How on earth could I do that?”

Bucky and Clint exchanged a very long look, then turned back to him.

“Okay,” said Clint, “this was meant to be the 'If you hurt my friend, we'll do violent things to you' talk, but I'm thinking it might need to be the 'by the way, my friend likes you' one instead.”

Bucky was more to the point. “Crieff, Tony's got a thing for you, in the won't-shut-up-about-you kinda way, which gets pretty old, let me tell you, especially as he talks too damned much as it is.”

“Oh,” said Martin, because he may have put some clues together enough to be able to hope, but actually hearing it out loud was very different. “That's- He does? Really? And you're sure he's not talking about someone else?”

“Very sure,” said Clint. “After months of hearing all about you, it'd be hard to mix you up with someone else.”

“Months,” repeated Martin, with a frown. “But we only ran into each other at the room a few weeks ago.”

Clint's eyes widened. “Ah, crap.”

“Tony's gonna kill you,” remarked Bucky.

Clint sent him a weak glare. “You could at least sound a bit upset about the idea. Some boyfriend you are.”

“Months?” said Martin again, weakly.

“Ah, yeah,” said Clint. “I mean, you started out as just 'that hot Hufflepuff boy' some time towards the end of last year, and then... it just kept going.”

Martin stared at him. Tony thought he was hot? Tony had been thinking that he was hot all that time? That was- well, it wasn't quite as long as Martin had been thinking Tony was hot, but then, Tony was a lot more visible than Martin was.

“Okay, so, now do you get the point of this conversation?” asked Clint. “Tony likes you and you were kinda acting like you like him, but we need to know that you're not going to get his hopes up and then walk away, or take advantage, or anything like that.”

Martin shook his head. “No,” he said. “I don't- I don't see how I could walk away. He's- He's amazing.”

Clint gave him a narrow-eyed look, then glanced at Bucky, who shrugged. “Seems sincere to me.”

“Okay,” said Clint. “Awesome.” He grinned at Martin. “Looking forward to hanging out with you when you're Tony's boyfriend, then.”

Tony's boyfriend. _Boyfriend_.

Martin's mind went blank for a moment.

“Come on, Clint, at least let Tony ask him out or snog him or whatever before you start on the boyfriend shit,” said Bucky. He frowned at Martin. “I think you broke him.”

Martin shook himself. “I have to- Um. Oh! I've got a lesson, I need to-”

He backed out of the room and ran towards Care Of Magical Creatures, trying to bring his brain back to life. It wasn't until at least two lessons later that he managed a proper coherent thought.

_Tonight, I'll get to kiss Tony._

It was a good thought so he had it again, and again, and then every few minutes for the rest of the day.

****

Martin didn't bother waiting for dinner to be over before going to the workshop. Instead, he went straight there the moment his last class was over.

He was expecting to have to wait an hour or two for Tony, so when he opened the door he was almost as surprised by Tony's presence as he was by the change in décor.

“What happened?” he asked, stepping in and shutting the door behind him, trying to ignore his sweaty palms.

Tony gave a shrug and glanced around at the comfortable sitting room that had replaced his workshop, a large sofa very pointedly in the middle of the room in front of a merrily crackling fire.

“I guess the room decided we needed something different tonight.”

He sounded as if he was aiming to be just as laid back as he always was but there was a nervous edge to his voice that Martin recognised all too well. It had the effect of making him feel better about his own nerves and he pulled courage together enough to walk towards Tony.

“I guess that means we're not meant to be looking at aviation designs tonight,” he said. “Got any ideas for what else we could do?”

Tony blinked at him and then a slow, beautiful smile spread over his face as he seemed to realise just how much Martin was on-board with whatever was about to happen between them.

“Oh, hundreds,” he said, reaching out and taking both of Martin's hands in his own. “I've kinda got a mental list I've been working on for a while.”

It was easy for Martin to keep hold of his confidence when Tony was looking at him like that. He found a smile of his own. “I wonder if any of them match up with the list I've got.”

Tony flat out beamed at that. “God, I really hope they do,” he said. “Here, let me show you what was right at the top of mine, and you can let me know.”

He pulled Martin in and kissed him, lips pressing to Martin's for barely a moment before he pulled away. 

Oh god, this was really happening.

Martin drew in a ragged breath. “I don't know, I think my list was more like this,” he said, and pulled Tony back, putting an arm around his shoulders to keep him close so that this kiss was longer, their lips moving together for a few moments before Tony opened his mouth and deepened it.

Oh god, Martin had never kissed anyone like this before. What if he was doing it wrong?

Was that even possible? From the way Tony felt against him, the grip of his hand on the back of Martin's robes and the catch of his breath as they separated and then came back together, there didn't seem any way to get it wrong.

Tony pulled back and gave a happy laugh. “Okay, seems like maybe we could add a few new items to the agenda of the Hogwarts Official Technology Appreciation Support Society.”

“That's quite a mouthful,” said Martin.

Tony grinned. “Guess we'll just have to call it HOTASS for short,” he said, and then grabbed at Martin's arse and kissed him again.

**Author's Note:**

> (Sorry about Douglas, but in my defence, this is when he was a teenager, and teenagers are generally terrible people.)
> 
> This is the last of my week of Tony/Martin AUs. I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
